The Peanut Butter and Jelly Mishap
by Meginatree
Summary: Did ya ever wonder if Wilbur had one of those accidents with the sandwhich maker? One that affected some he loved? Well I did. MILD SLASH


* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own Meet the Robinson. Pixar does. The same can be said for Matty & Ruth, though they belong to the fab Jill. Go and check her out. (She is soooo much better than moi)

AN: Watching MtR again yesterday, I wondered if the gang had, had one those moments with the PB&J maker that Mr Harrington (aka adoption couple no. 124) had. Once again I'm gunna blame Jill. Why? Because I can, (and I think she likes being blamed for stuff, well as long as its good stuff)

The Peanut Butter and Jelly Mishap.

"Ruthie!" squealed a little voice as its owner ran over to the older girl, who gave him a toothy grin in return.

"Wil!" dropping the baseball, Ruthie ran halfway towards her close friend, ignoring her father's attempts to reclaim her to the game.

* * *

Curious brown eyes looked up, hidden behind the black frames of his glasses. Matt watched the friends hug, smiling sadly, before returning to his finger painting. The wind tussled his brown locks, as well as snatched his paper away from him, causing the five year old to pout as it floated towards his sister.

* * *

Feeling a piece of wet paper flapping against his leg, Wilbur looked down. Concentrating he peeled it away from his leg, glimpsing the colours it held, before the wind ripped it away.

Hearing a whimper of distress, he looked up, meeting Matt's brown eyes. Immediately an apologetic look appeared on his face, only to be met with an irate look appearing on Matt's young face. The five year old's lip quivered before he ran away. Crushed, Wilbur stretched out one hand after the boy, before being pulled off by Ruth.

* * *

"Ruthie?"

"What Wil?"

"We should go and cheer Matty up. I mean I kinda lost his picture," the five year said from his perch in the tree.

"Hmm…" Ruth commented thoughtfully, chewing on a stem of grass she had pulled out. Shielding her eyes, the eight year old looked up from the ground, "I think we should just leave him alone. He's no fun, he doesn't even like baseball!"

"So? Not everyone likes baseball Ruthie," Wilbur commented as he slid down the tree, "Come on, let's go," he said, tugging the girl's sleave.

"Fine," Ruth sighed, rolling her eyes and getting to her feet. She let herself be pulled along by the younger child.

Pausing near the family's picnic baskets, Wilbur looked thoughtfully at his, that famous Robinson mind going into gear. Spotting his father's Peanut-Butter-and-Jelly Sandwich Maker he picked it up, staggering slightly under the sudden change in weight.

"Where's Matty anyway Ruthie?" Wilbur commented as the two began to search for their 'friend'.

"I dunno," Ruth shrugged uncaringly, toying with one of her thick black braids. "Maybe under that tree?" she said pointing over at the figure that sat beneath a tree.

"Yeah. Let's go check Ruthie," and with that Wilbur was off, weaving from side to side with the sandwich maker. Sighing Ruth followed, picking up a loaf of bread as she went.

* * *

"Matty!" shrieked Wilbur as he collapsed gently on the grass next to his fellow five year old.

Silently, Matt regarded Wilbur with the same calmness an adult possessed. The black haired boy laughed at the seriousness and rolled over, lying on his stomach staring back at Matt with those big velvet brown eyes of his. Matt stared into them, completely captivated.

Or he was until his sister whacked the back of his head. Rubbing the back of it he scowled back at her, lashing out at her with his tiny foot.

"Stupid Ruth," he muttered earning a snigger from Wilbur and a glare from Ruth.

Sitting up, Wilbur pulled the sandwich maker over to him. Grabbing the bread from Ruth he began to fiddle with the peanut butter and jelly dispenser, humming under his breath, which quickly turned into singing.

"Peanut butter jelly time, peanut butter jelly time. Peanut butter jelly time…" Wilbur was cut of by a groan that came from Ruth. Cocking his head he looked over at his best friend, wondering what had annoyed her.

"Your song sucks, Wil," she gave in reply.

"Na-uh."

"Yeh-uh."

"Na-ah."

"Yeh-uh"

"Na-uh so there," Wil said blowing a raspberry.

"Just shut up and make the sandwiches."

"Fine."

Matt watched cautiously as Wilbur started up the machine. As usual the spirals of purple jelly and peanut butter appeared. But as expected the dial got jammed. Perplexed Wilbur began to shake it, Ruth moving to sit further away. In her young life she had already seen the after effects of a jamming.

_Splat_. Wilbur looked up at the sound, a giggle forming quickly. Ruth was the first to break though her laughter mixing with Wilbur's, as they grew hysterical at the sight of Matt.

Peanut butter was splattered in his hair, jelly sliding down his glasses. His little mouth twitched before setting into a deep scowl. He glared at Ruth and Wilbur before standing and walking away, leaving behind his paints and drawing. The tips of his ears turned red in embarrassment as he heard the whoops that came from his sister, overpowering the words of Wilbur.

"Matty… wait…"

* * *

Matt relaxed against the couch, his sketchbook in his lap as he painstakingly drew, the tip of his tongue poking out of his teeth. He glanced upwards as Wilbur entered the room, but resumed his concentration on his art.

* * *

Wilbur leaned against the doorframe, watching Matt's stubborn efforts. He held back a chuckle at the sight of the small furrow in his boyfriend's brow. Matty looked up at him, before returning to his work.

Getting hungry Wilbur wandered off to the kitchen. Rummaging through the cupboards, he came across his old Peanut-Butter-and-Jelly sandwich maker. His father had finally managed to fix the clogging problem, but this model was quite outdated and didn't have the upgrades. A sly smirk came to Wilbur's face.

Creeping towards the lounge room, he glanced round the door, focusing on Matt. Bringing the sandwich machine up, he aimed at his boyfriend. Matty wouldn't mind too much, he told himself; it was only a beginning sketch after all. Squeezing the trigger he let fly and hid behind the door.

Hearing a yelp of surprise he looked back around the door. Spotting a very irate Matt, he whistled inconspicuously and ran for his life, laughter threatening to burst out all the way. Reaching the bedroom he collapsed into tears of laughter, before being shushed by a yell.

"WILBUR!"


End file.
